


grandfather's waltz

by Anonymous



Category: Everything I Never Told You - Celeste Ng
Genre: THE MORE I READ IT THE WORSE IT GETS OMG, i did this isntead of english class, i literally cannot write good dialogue for my life, maybe my teacher would like it tho idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 22:34:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29071863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: ok so its based on this song: https://open.spotify.com/track/02KOM4CMj7RcOGonUJUXc8
Kudos: 4
Collections: Anonymous





	grandfather's waltz

the roots were laid in parchment and dissolved, the heads diced and flavored with soy sauce. lydia wanted to wait for the carrot belts to become bronzed, or browned? - the cookbook had a water stain and it took an eagle eye to make out the words.

lydia grabbed a record player and album from nate’s room, and set it on the kitchen table. she washed her hands and shook off the excess, the water droplets creating a rhythm that echoed the weather outside, when the doorbell rang gently.

“are you home?” hannah knocked four times in succession, a habit that didn’t pass over with childhood. “can i come in?”

“i made dinner,” lydia said.

hannah made her way in, swaying in a way that reminded lydia of a wheat stalk caught in the breeze. “my professor is a bitch,” she said to no one in particular, “and it’s raining.” hannah fiddled with the switches on the record player, and a song began to play.

lydia said, "i would be too if i had to be around you all day. i cant stand you."

hannah gasped. "you disgust me."

"do i now," lydia said.

“come on, let's eat. do you know how long i cut these carrots?”

they ate the carrot ribbons like french fries, dipping each strip into dijon mustard and then munching. most siblings had an unsaid agreement on things, and in this case it was the welcoming of sweet silences, which to lydia left space for things to be said, and to hannah allowed observation.

the waltz music flared over a loud melody and hannah made a little curtsy to her sister. “may i have this dance?” she said.

lydia graciously accepted. “if you step on my toe it’s really going to be over for you.”

they danced to the pulse of the heavy rain on the roof and the whirlwind melody scratched out by the tooth of their record player. the kitchen warmed up, becoming less of a kitchen but more of a container for two people to exist in part, constituents to a constituency. inside this small suburban home it was cozy and alive, they spinned and tried to carry each other on their backs. hannah told lydia stories about her university and lydia answered, dry comments that belied interest. they talked in juxtaposition, contrasting and arguing but it brought them close in the same nuclear way that the u.s. and north korea were close.

neither one noticed as the clock hands made their winding way to twelve. soon, the rain stopped and the sky dried up, although occasionally letting water slip through the atmosphere like a faulty showerhead.

the next day the plate of carrot ribbons was finished and washed, and the record player put back. hannah and lydia lapsed back into their relaxed silence in the understanding that they had always had. long nights proved easy, and backbreaking, bone breaking words seemed like a snap of the fingers, bright presence lending energy to lydia. denominator and numerator to a fraction, they spread out on vast expanses and balanced.


End file.
